Last Resort
by Kiki-Jo
Summary: Life for Kurt Hummel is never perfect. Even at Dalton, he's still taunted by Karofsky; will Blaine ever find out, and will he be able to save him? Rating for language and certain themes. O/S. Klaine. One-sided Kurtofsky. Self-harm.


**Last Resort.**

I had to write a Glee fic. I mean, I _had _to. The need was too great. This is dark. Sorry, that's just how I roll recently. Spoilers up to and including Silly Love Songs. It's not very long. But I had to do it…

Klaine. One sided Kurtofsky. Self-harm. Songfic. One shot.

Disclaimer – I do not own Glee; if I did, Klaine would be real, have happened, and they would currently be in my bed.

**Cut my life into pieces  
This is my last resort  
Suffocation  
No breathing  
Don't give a fuck if I cut my arm bleeding**

_Sup, homo?  
__You sneaking in here to peek at my junk?_

Kurt was sick of it. All the scathing comments, the hateful words; nothing could compare to the looks. Those looks, filled with lust, passion. And Kurt had to put up with it, every day.  
Even now, while he was safely hidden away at Dalton, he was never truly safe. He could never tell Blaine, whose solution would no doubt be exactly the same as it was the last time; confrontation. But Kurt knew, Karofsky did not respond well to confrontation. Not in the least, not even a little bit.

"_Missing me, homo?_"

Kurt rolled his eyes at his phone before deleting the text. Third one today. All along the same lines. _He really isn't very creative,_ Kurt thought. Typical jock.

"Hey, you got a friend?" Blaine asked, showing off his beautiful smile again, eyes focused on Kurt.  
"Wh- No. Nope. Not at all." Kurt replied, far too quickly for Blaine's liking, but he didn't question it. Kurt would tell him in good time, he guessed. Blaine turned away from Kurt as Wes and David walked into the room for Warblers practice, leaving the taller boy to fiddle with the very un-Kurt-like wristband on his left wrist.

Hidden away in his room, Kurt was finally safe to remove the offending accessory on his wrist. Shame filled him once again as he caught sight of the multitude of marks on his wrist; as he looked down, memories of Karofsky's threats and remarks filled him. This was usually how it happened. He tried to repress the thoughts, but once again, it didn't take long for Kurt to become consumed. _Hate. Self-loathing. Mortification. _

Kurt walked through to his en-suite, tears filling his eyes as his feet lead him towards the one place he had tried to avoid for the past few days, but it seemed he was drawn to it. He slid the drawer open beneath the sink, and pulled out his old razor. He tried, he really tried to resist, but as he closed the distance between his hand and wrist, the tears began to fall. The blade cut through the skin on his wrist like butter, the blood trickling out slowly. His emotional pain alleviated slightly to make way for the physical pain, the very same pain that always seemed to numb his mind.

"Hey, Kurt? Can I borrow your chemistry notes?" Blaine's voice sounded through the small space of Kurt's room and through to where Kurt was knelt in the bathroom. Kurt's head shot up as he heard his boyfriends voice, trying to hide his razor. Kurt looked around quickly in attempt to find out where he had left his wristband – _Shit! _His trusty wristband lay abandoned on his bed, up near his pillow.

The blood now flowed freely from the slice across his arm, and with no way to hide it, without getting blood on his favourite towel, Kurt's only option was to lay his wrist on the floor next to him, and hope that it was well hidden enough that Blaine wouldn't see – at least until he had a chance to clean u and get his wrist band back on.

"Kurt?" Blaine's head appeared from around the open bathroom door, searching the small space for his boyfriend. It took him less than a second to see Kurt sat on the floor in the corner, one arm across his front, the other disappearing next to him. What did catch Blaine's eye, however, were the drops of blood on Kurt's shirt. Blaine's eyes widened as his mind caught up with his eyes and began to make sense of what he was seeing. _Kurt. Sat on the floor? _That in itself was strange enough, Kurt _never_ sat on the floor out of choice. _Blood. Tear tracks down his face._  
"Fuck. Kurt." Blaine's voice was full of recognition, a sound which terrified Kurt, who knew instantly that Blaine was more observant than Kurt had hoped. "W- Why?" He asked, dreading the answer.  
"It was too much." Kurt answered, keeping the words simple, so that the lump in his throat didn't affect his voice. He knew, he just _knew_, that if he said too much, his voice would crack, and there would be no way of holding back the pain that was currently being held at bay with the small amount of will-power Kurt had left.  
Blaine knew that no matter what he said, he wouldn't get a sufficient response. After all, it was only a few years ago that he had been in this exact same position; broken and hurt by homophobic assholes from his old school. It took a lot to get over, the amount of taunting he had been through, and that wasn't even half of what Kurt had been forced to put up with during his time at McKinley.

Kurt hung his head in shame, both for being caught by Blaine, and for being weak. He wished Blaine would stop standing in the doorway, watching him. He had to be freaked out, Kurt knew that for sure, but he wasn't leaving. _Why won't he just break up with me now, save himself all the hassle, instead of standing just watching?  
_Blaine must have been able to read his mind, because just as Kurt finished his train of thought, Blaine moved closer, kneeled on the floor, and pulled Kurt gently into his arms.  
"I know you think I should leave you, Kurt, but I could never give up on you, ever. Never forget that. I love you, Kurt Hummel, no matter how much you've been through in the past, I still love you, and I always will." Blaine said, tilting Kurt's head up to look at him, forcing eye contact so Kurt could see the truth that lay within Blaine's eyes.  
"…Really?" Kurt asked, in an uncharacteristically small voice.  
"Really." Blaine's voice was firm, as he lowered his lips to meet his boyfriends.  
"So, you don't hate me?" Kurt asked, as their soft kiss ended and they pulled away reluctantly. Blaine's eyes sparkled with laughter.  
"I could never hurt you, idiot." Blaine's assured him, truth mixing with love and happiness within his hazel eyes.

Kurt was sat in Spanish class the following day, fiddling, once again, with his trusty wrist band. He really just couldn't wait to get out of there.  
The previous night, after the two boys got off the bathroom floor, Blaine had asked Kurt to go out with him tonight, and how could he refuse? Now he really, really just wanted to get out of here and get ready for his date.  
It was ten minutes until the end of the lesson, and just as Kurt tapped his pencil against the wooden table for the 50th time, his phone vibrated in his pocket. Curious as to who would be texting him, he pulled it out and read the message under the table, out of the teachers sight.

"_COURAGE. – Blaine xx"_


End file.
